


Line In The Sand

by not_for_your_perception



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Intimidation, Invasion of Privacy, M/M, Threats of Violence, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28810365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_for_your_perception/pseuds/not_for_your_perception
Summary: Oliver finds Elio’s journal, he can’t help but wonder if it says anything about him.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Kudos: 9





	Line In The Sand

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I have no way to justify this... certainly would have sped the novel along I assume.

It's late afternoon when Oliver takes his usual place in heaven. Not even a few paces away Elio's sitting on the picnic table scribbling away over his transcriptions. Lazily Oliver let's his gaze find the others, the younger man's eyes dark with want on him. As their eyes find eachother electricity shoots down his spine though he works to maintain a detached gaze. He sighs a bit breaking the eye contact to lean back in the sun picking up his manuscript flippantly skimming his most recent translations. The weight of Elio's stare on him drives Oliver mad but he wills himself to ignore it and after a bit he let's the papers rest on his face to that he isnt tempted to meet those piercing eyes again.  
  
Instead he let's the sun beating down on him, soothing Oliver into a light sleep still vaguely conscious of the other's eyes on him. However when he finally stirs and goes to adjust to lay on his back he realizes Elio had gone. Briefly he wonders how long he had been asleep.  
  
His gaze wanders back to where Elio had been sitting, the area lit up with life. A half drunk glass of lemonade holding down the sheets of music Elio had been working on, a pen tucked into the notepad the younger always seemed to be scribbling in. It told Oliver that something, more likely someone had pulled Elio away from his work leaving the table a scene of unbound youth. And, god help him, Oliver was gratefull the other man was gone, having him around was, in itself, temptation. Between the prolonged stares they often shared and the way the other was always a second too late to hide the burning passion inside of him, Oliver was always moments away from testing the bounds of that passion. The others eyes screamed "do with me what you will" even when he was fighting to look nonchalant. Unlike Oliver he hadn't mastered the sport of concealing his want, that came with age Oliver supposed.  
  
A breeze blows the notepad from the table for a moment Oliver only stares letting out a discontented sigh as he's pulled from his spot to pick it up for Elio, telling himself it's the right thing to do so he doesnt have to face the deeper reason-- craving the knowledge of what goes through the younger's mind. His name is scribbled in haphazardly scripted letters and Oliver's eyes light up. It would be deeply wrong to invade the younger man's privacy like this. And yet Oliver finds himself staring down at the papers his heart pounding. His head raises to look around seeing if anyone is nearby though it seems hes blissfully alone. Alone to do with the papers whatever he desired.   
  
A few moments pass, Oliver staring down at his name trying to will himself to put the papers down and walk away. Forget he saw any of this. But once he starts reading its impossible to stop. His lower lip catches between his teeth, the others words proving the complexities of human passion with each word. It seems Elio's mind is as twisted and sick as his own.  
  
Oliver lowers himself onto the bench of the picnic table, entranced by the graphic descriptions of his fantasies of Oliver drowned, his body showing up to shore lifeless and bloated. It makes Oliver's heart pound. There are dreams the others had of him, their bodies pressed together and if Oliver hadn't already been hard before reading that passage he was now.   
  
The way the other describes his body is desperate with a recklessness that could only be achieved by a young man on the brink of his sexual awakening.   
  
Oliver can see just how easy it would be to corrupt him, truly corrupt him. Beyond words and fantasies- he could _have_ the other, with it all the complexities of the young man's desire. It's tempting enough to leave Oliver reaching between his legs to touch himself.  
  
To anyone else this would be too shocking. A damning ode to lust the author never intended to see the light of day. Surely enough to make Marquis de Sade blanche. Oliver wonders to himself who would touch himselves to the thought of another man dreaming about crippling him? Who besides himself could even entertain the idea unphased?   
  
It brings his craving for Elio to heights it had never reached before.  
  
The sound of a solitary bike making it's way up the driveway pulls Oliver from his thoughts. He forces himself away from the table taking the notebook with him. As the gate opens Oliver settles on his stomach to hide his hard on. His eyes settle on Elio as he approaches the table, unphased when the other refused to meet his gaze. It thrills him to watch Elio lower himself into his seat, realizing something's not quite as he left it. There's a moment of pause the other tensing, Oliver waits with bated breath.  
  
"Did Mafalda come around?" He asked almost tentatively  
  
"Haven't seen her," Oliver responds flipping through the notepad again "You need something?"   
  
Elio shakes his head "Its nothing," He returns searching the ground around him.  
  
"I want you to hear something, tell me what you think," Oliver starts his eyes skimming over the passage.  
  
"Not right now," Elio snips but Oliver just clears his throat starting to read.  
  
"I want him dead, just so-,"  
  
Elio turns abruptly facing him now the blood drained from his face "What the fuck are you doing?" He breathes seemingly glued to the spot he stood.  
  
"Have you heard this one before?" He asks his eyes going to glance at the other before continuing "so I can be done with him,"  
  
Elio reaches for the book letting out a flustered "that's none of your business," but Oliver's quick to move the pad out of the way.   
  
He sits up his hand reaching out to tug the other to the ground, his grip tight "This is _absolutely my business_ ," Oliver returns looking the other dead in the eye "Do I need to be worried about you, Elio?" He breathes looming into to others eyes, his grip tightening on the others wrist as he tugs the other closer.  
  
"No look-" Elio tries, Oliver thrills seeing the tears welling up in the younger man's eyes. His breath coming quick and shallow, on the brink of tears as he tries to twist his wrist to loosen Oliver's grip "You- that hurts," He breathes  
  
"I dont care," Oliver breathes his gaze steely on the other man his gaze turning back to the passage "I want him dead just so I can be done with him," He starts again a shaky breath escaping him. His grip tightening as the other squirms "I want to kill him myself so that he will know how much his mere existence has come to bother me," He continues aching at the others word noting how Elio's eyes slip to his trunks and let's his eyes do the same. "Is that what you want from me, Elio?" Elio's as hard as he is.  
  
Elio's glaring at him though tears still glitter in his eyes after a moment of silence Oliver let's Elio go. The younger snatches his notebook and scrambles away leaving Oliver aware of how recklessly he'd treated the situation. He scrubs a hand over his face, committing to making sure the others alright later. For the time being he let's out a sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose just praying Elio wont tell anyone what had passed between them.


End file.
